


Empty World

by MissingNickname



Category: Pentatonix
Genre: Gen, I am a bit sorry, Kinda, Radioactive Music video AU, post-apocalyptic setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6040426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissingNickname/pseuds/MissingNickname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine an empty world.<br/>The big crash, the one everybody has subconsciously been dreading, has come.<br/>It’s over now. There is silence.</p>
<p>This is a small look at the thoughts, feelings and paths of two PTX members after what can only be described as an apocalypse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty World

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by the (great, wonderful, absolutely amazing) Radioactive Music video PTX made in collaboration with Lindsey Stirling. I strongly recommend listening to it as you read, and then proceeding with Mitch's Graveyard cover and "Run to you".  
> I found these songs to fit the emotions I try to protray quite well.  
> But who am I kidding, this OS is probably not even long enough for three full songs. Whatever, listen to them while reading as you please.

_Imagine an empty world.  
The big crash, the one everybody has subconsciously been dreading, has come.  
It’s over now. There is silence.  
But not death._  
  
Not death, please not death.  
It is the third day, there is still hope. There has to be.  
Please, let there be hope.  
  
_There is space. On good days, when the fog lifts, you can see for miles.  
The wind gently touches your face and brushes over your hair. You breathe.   
You still live.  
The sun touches your skin.  
Warmth._  
  
For the first time in days, the breeze has returned and slowly takes the dust away.  
The smell of smoke is everywhere.  
Even though the fires have stopped burning.  
It’s chilly, now. The torn coat can’t keep every last bit of the wind away.  
A shiver runs down his spine as he faces the vast and empty ruins before him once more.  
  
_There are no skylines. Instead, mountains line your horizon now.  
Houses, streets, cities, reduced to broken stones and rubble, lay between you and the mountains.  
Wires are tangled up in bizarre constructions of bent steel.  
The sunlight paints their contorted shadows on the uneven ground.  
  
_ The city used to be so big. Now, that it’s been conquered and broken down, it seems even bigger.  
Crossing it by foot is taking days. But time is so precious, everything depends on time.  
Time decides between life and death. With every second, a bit of hope is ticking away.  
He needs to go faster.  
  
_Everything has changed.  
The rules in the big game of life have been redrafted.  
You need to clear your view. Direct your thoughts.  
It used to feel so hard. But the truth is, it is just new._  
  
Walking through the city is dangerous. Every step on the loose stones needs to be considered carefully. But there is no time!  
His breathing is fast, and he can feel every heartbeat pounding inside his head.  
His body is aching, muscles shaking with exhaustion.  
He needs to save his strength.   
Nobody knows what the next hours will bring.  
But for all it is worth, he needs to be _faster_.  
  
_There is freedom. With the silence, peace has come.  
There are not many to rejoice in that peace.  
Life is simpler.   
There are not many to share it with.   
Sometimes, you can go for days without spotting a sign of life._   
  
Three days.  
He knows where he is headed. It just takes. Too. Long.  
But he needs to find him. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he fails.  
He doesn’t dare to think about it.  
He tries to think nothing at all.  
He just clings to this one last hope.  
  
_There is not much movement.  
Just the wind that occasionally tugs at your ragged clothing.  
It rustles through the bushes and the high grass that tentatively start to reclaim the even ground or daringly cling to the ruins of buildings.  
  
_ Slowly, the big piles of stone give way to the remains of smaller buildings. He starts to notice shattered glass and broken wood.  
Sometimes his feet even walk on solid ground.  
Earth.  
Patches of asphalt that used to belong to streets.  
So much destruction. His eyes are burning.  
He forces himself to look away and keep going.  
  
_From time to time a ruin collapses. When you see the stones falling down, the world seems to move slower.  
It reminds you of what happened.  
Often, you freeze for a second. Close your eyes.  
Then breathe. Go on.  
That’s all life is about, now.  
_  
It is so hard to not lose the way.   
The ruins of the city have formed an intricate labyrinth. They are blocking his view.  
Losing the right direction could be fatal.  
Times and times again he takes the risk of scrambling to the top of a halfway collapsed house, just to make sure he’s still taking the right way.  
Sometimes he makes it safely.  
Sometimes he slips and comes down with the building.  
By now, his clothes are torn and dirty. His bare arms and hands are bruised and smeared with blood.  
Everything hurts.  
But he needs to go on. As long as there is still hope, he _has to_.  
Maybe it’s not in vain, please, please; it must not be in vain!  
  
_One thing about this new world is, people don’t remember.  
Not because they have forgotten.  
But because they want to forget.  
There are new things to focus on. Thinking back is nothing but pain.  
_  
The outskirts of the city.  
He’s nearly there when he sees it for the first time.  
A dead body, partly buried under the remains of the house it tried to escape.  
His thoughts immediately flash back. To that last phone call.  
Before reception died for good and everything went to hell.  
He covers his eyes as he hurries on, but he can’t unsee.  
He takes deep breaths as he takes his hands away from his face again.  
They are wet. He wipes them on his coat.  
He can’t keep the memories away any longer.  
His mind is still numb, but now the pictures he tried to forget are burning on the inside of his eyelids.  
He can’t escape them, no matter how fast he runs.  
  
_“Hey, are you alright? I don’t know what is happening, but things are going crazy!”  
“Yeah, I’m fine and the others are, too. They said something on the news, but electricity died before they could explain. It feels like the house is coming down! Where are you?”  
“At home, but I keep thinking I should go outside, maybe it’s not safe. Are you still at the meeting?”  
“They evacuated us. We’re in the park around the corner and – holy shit, take a look at the sun!”  
“What? I can’t hear you, there’s something-“  
“I don’t understand you, some people are screaming like crazy here, **what is going on??** Are you still there?”  
“…-ld on, so-…-ing is wrong. **Fuck** -… earth is sha-… …-tting outside…”  
“What was that crash? Are you there? **Can you hear me?? KEVIN?!** ”  
Beep. Beep. Beep._  
  
There’s the house. The apartment used to be on the second floor.  
Now, there is no second floor.  
Just a pile of concrete, roof tiles, stone and wood.  
One half of what used to be their kitchen table blocks the front door.  
His voice is shaking and his breath goes uneven as he calls out.  
To his own ears, he sounds like a stranger.  
  
_When the cities came down, they killed almost everyone.  
There were big fires. Skyscrapers tumbling down to the ground and burying hundreds, thousands of hysterical people.  
There are not many bodies.  
Sometimes, it appears as if the catastrophe has just swept them all away._  
  
Avriel does not care; he doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s openly crying as he tries to make his way into the destroyed house. He doesn’t care about the metal railing that comes down on him as soon as he manages to get through the door.   
Nothing matters any more, apart from his desperate search for Kevin, because he has to be here, he _has_ to, he can’t be dead.  
Nobody has answered his calling.  
But Kevin _has_ to be alive.  
He digs through the rubble, not noticing the sharp edges that tear the skin on his palms open. He doesn’t care about the blood.  
Please, don’t let him be dead.  
He shouts Kevin’s name over and over again.  
Please, no. Not like-  
He freezes as he comes face to face with the dead body of their downstairs neighbor, pinned to the ground by heavy bookshelves and parts of the ceiling.  
Every last bit of strength seems to seep out of his body as he collapses, unable to take it any longer.  
He just stares ahead numbly, paralyzed. And tries to block out every last bit of his awareness of this world. The tears in his eyes blur a picture he doesn’t try to see any longer.  
  
_“Everything must end.”  
Someone has written these words on the white wall next to Kevin’s makeshift camp.  
He’s staying on a hill just outside the city.  
And as far as he can see, everything has ended.  
Three days of waiting and searching around and he hasn’t encountered a single sign of life. Not in this neighborhood and not from the others.  
But he is not yet ready to abandon hope.   
He still prays. Keeps his eyes open. Listens.  
And on the fourth day, the wind carries a raspy voice to him.  
It’s calling his name.  
  
_ When he hears a voice, it doesn’t register right away.  
He remains where he is, covered in dust, motionless, kneeling in the ruins of what used to be his home.  
It’s only when arms are wrapped around him that he snaps back to reality.  
In the blink of an eye, he turns around and freezes in shock.  
Disbelief. Wonder. It can’t be, can it?  
He slowly raises one hand to touch this image of his best friend in the world that he’s seeing. His fingers meet dirty fabric.  
He falls into Kevin’s arms.  
  
“It’s okay. I got you. I got you, alright? I’m here.”  
  
“What’s happened to you? Have you walked the entire way? What about the others?”  
  
“Hey, it’s alright. I got you and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”  
  
“I’m with you, I’m right here. It’s okay. It’s okay.”  
  
“What about the others?”  
  
_What about the others._  
  
He tries to answer this question times and times again.   
He can’t.  
  
But Kevin is just there.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry.  
> Kind of.  
> But it was really enjoyable to write this.  
> I wanted something totally different from my last PTX OS, so I tried a new style, new setting, and everything.  
> Would be really nice if you let me know what you think about it!  
> By the way, there are way too few Avi & Kevin fics out there, which is also why this needed to be written. But it's also fun to alternatively read it as a Scömìche version... Well.... "fun". You get what I mean.  
> I will stop rambling now. Have a great day!


End file.
